


afternoon delights

by andnowforyaya



Series: camera boy [8]
Category: B.A.P, K-pop
Genre: Bottoming from the Top, Consensual Kink, Genderplay, M/M, Slut Shaming, Sugar Daddy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-17
Updated: 2014-04-17
Packaged: 2018-01-19 18:26:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1479592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andnowforyaya/pseuds/andnowforyaya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Himchan in real life is just as breathtaking as he is on screen. The lighting of the restaurant is bright and natural, and only highlights the flawless, even tone of his skin and the angles of his jaw and cheekbones. He stands when Daehyun approaches, and brings him in for a kiss on the cheek as a greeting.</p><p>Maybe he also pinches Daehyun’s ass discreetly and Daehyun squeaks, but that’s neither here nor there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	afternoon delights

When Himchan’s assistant tells him he should meet Himchan at The Pierre, the hotel where he is staying, for afternoon tea, Daehyun thinks at first that she is joking. Over the phone, she sounds serious, yet friendly.

“No, we really mean afternoon tea. Let’s say 3:30pm? Two E Bar inside The Pierre. You don’t need the address, do you? I’m assuming you know how to Google.”

“What should I wear?”

“It’s _tea_ ,” his assistant says. “Not a Gala. Wear whatever you want.”

She hangs up, and Daehyun conveniently shuttles that information to the back of his mind for a few days so that he can focus on classes and assignments and not on the butterflies ravaging his stomach whenever he thinks about meeting Himchan in the flesh.

Then on the day of, he _does_  nearly forget, and ends up rushing to The Pierre in midtown in the clothes he woke up in - jeans and a white t-shirt and a long cardigan, his black back pack bouncing behind him - and then he stands in the lobby of the hotel and wishes he could sink into the checkered marble tiling of the floor.

 _Grand_  isn’t large enough to describe the interior of the building, decked out in marble and gold, elegant and historic and classic. He shouldn’t be wearing jeans; he should be wearing a _suit_ , or maybe a silk robe.

An attendant calls for his attention at the front desk. He approaches it, unsure, taking in the chandelier above him and the attendant’s frozen smile.

“Welcome to The Pierre,” the attendant says. He looks Daehyun up and down. “Can I help you?”

“Um,” Daehyun says. “I’m meeting someone at - Two E Bar?” He squints at the silver nametag. “Kevin,” he adds.

The attendance blinks. His smile certainly seems forced, and he looks Daehyun up and down again, his facial muscles twitching.

Daehyun bites at his bottom lip, shifting uncomfortably on his feet. He wonders if this kind of thing happens a lot. He wonders if the attendant knows what he’s here for. Daehyun doesn’t really belong here. He doesn’t look the part.

“Ah,” Kevin says, nodding. “Two E Bar will be at the end of that hall. Mind the steps. Sir.”

“Thank you,” Daehyun says politely. He can feel his eyes on him as he walks down the hall, past the huge paintings in gold frames and marbled columns.

He reaches a set of heavy glass double doors. One is propped open. He walks through and minds the steps, and is greeted by another attendant.

“Welcome to Two E Bar,” the hostess says, smiling wide. She looks lovely and tiny and fierce. “Reservation?”

“Oh,” Daehyun says, stammering. “I think - probably --”

He catches someone waving at him from past the hostess’ head and feels his lips twitching in response. It’s Himchan - it’s definitely Himchan - who is flailing one of his arms above his head to get Daehyun’s attention. He’s seated at a small table in the corner, and other diners are sending him funny, offended looks.

“That’s him,” Daehyun says, pointing.

The hostess turns. When she addresses Daehyun again, she’s laughing.

“Oh, I was wondering when you’d show. He kept saying he was just early, but you know. I’ve worked here for a while, and sometimes dates just fall through the cracks. I’m glad that wasn’t the case, this time. He seems sweet.”

Daehyun ducks his head, grinning. If only she knew.

Himchan in real life is just as breathtaking as he is on screen. The lighting of the restaurant is bright and natural, and only highlights the flawless, even tone of his skin and the angles of his jaw and cheekbones. He stands when Daehyun approaches, and brings him in for a kiss on the cheek as a greeting.

Maybe he also pinches Daehyun’s ass discreetly and Daehyun squeaks, but that’s neither here nor there.

They sit, Daehyun’s cheeks red, and Himchan says, “You’re even prettier in real life, Daehyun,” and his voice is chocolate - smooth and rich and unadulterated by the speakers of his laptop.

“Ah,” Daehyun breathes, suddenly unable to think of anything to say. Himchan is in front of him and real and beautiful, and Himchan smirks and Daehyun thinks his heart is going to beat right out of his chest. “Thank you,” he manages.

“Thank you…?” Himchan trails off, expectant, and a waiter comes over to place a carousel of mini sandwiches and pastries onto their table, and pours tea into their cups. He leaves when Himchan nods at him.

“Thank you, oppa,” Daehyun whispers, ears flaming. He looks down. It’s different saying the word in person, feels much more intimate and personal, but something falls into place between them.

Daehyun knows how to do this - he knows how Himchan wants him to behave. They may be meeting in real life but that doesn’t mean Himchan is really meeting _him_. Not the Daehyun that rolls around in bed after an embarrassing performance, or the one who stuffs his face with ice cream on rainy days, or the one whom Youngjae knows.

They are meeting and they are playing, and it’s an expensive, sensual game.

.

Tea passes smoothly. The sandwiches are little explosions of happiness on Daehyun’s tongue, and he makes sure to rub Himchan’s ankle with his own enticingly underneath the table, to lick his lips and bite them, to suck Himchan’s finger into his mouth when he feeds him a small pastry.

He’d expected Himchan to want to simply go upstairs, after, but Himchan wants to go shopping.

“I want to spoil you,” he says, brushing a lock of hair from Daehyun’s face, and Daehyun flushes again.

“Oh?” Daehyun says, his voice low.

“Yeah. I want to know what you look like when you get what you want.”

Daehyun wiggles in his seat, face flaming. “Oppa,” he whines.

“I want you to ask me for things like that,” Himchan breathes.

Himchan drags them both over to a department store a couple of blocks over. “It’s not the greatest,” he says, “But they’ve got everything here.”

Daehyun nods, led forward by Himchan’s hand on his wrist, as Himchan guides them to the escalators and quickly navigates them to the men’s section of the store.

It’s bright inside, white walls and strong lights and dark carpeting. Despite it being a department store, the racks are neat and spacious and it is not crowded. Daehyun casually runs his fingers across the materials on a rack, dipping in to lift a pricetag from the collar of a shirt, glancing at it. Then he drops it again, almost wincing.

“What do you like?” Himchan asks him.

“It’s too much,” Daehyun mumbles, looking around at all the luxury fabrics and tailored clothes. Even the mannequins look more expensive than the ones he usually sees.

Himchan says, “Like I said, I want to _spoil_  you. Now, tell me. What do you like?”

.

Three shopping bags filled with new jeans and shirts and hoodies later (and a watch, though that doesn’t make it into the bag), they are riding the escalator down a floor when Himchan folds Daehyun’s fingers into his and pulls him to stand on the same step, kissing him lightly on the corner of the mouth.

Daehyun gasps, hand coming up to press against Himchan’s chest for balance, and dips his chin when he feels Himchan’s hand coming around to circle his waist, his thumb hooking through one of his beltloops and resting there.

They get off on the landing and Himchan pauses, steps faltering. He looks up, and across, and Daehyun follows his gaze. Then Himchan is pushing him to the the next escalator again, but Daehyun grinds his feet down, stilling, thinking about the bags and the watch and how lovely Himchan is.

“Oppa,” Daehyun whispers, his lips dry. He licks them. “Does oppa want to pick something out?”

And Himchan freezes. His eyes are wide when he looks at Daehyun. Wide and interested and excited. “Would you,” Himchan starts, his voice cracking. He clears his throat. “Would you wear it?”

Daehyun smirks. Jackpot.

“If oppa wants me to…”

Himchan shuffles in place, like he’s winding himself up for it. He keeps glancing at the mannequins and then back at Daehyun, and then at the racks. “Wait here. I’ll go pick something out.” His grin is huge.

While he is gone, Daehyun checks his phone. There’s a text from Youngjae.

jae says: please respond if you are not dead

Daehyun laughs, texting back.

Youngjae was quiet this morning, and skeptical all week, full of questions and doubt and concern. So much that it bled over into lazy morning sex the other day in Youngjae’s bed, Daehyun trying to tamp down his buzzing energy because of Himchan’s impending arrival.

“How are you going to be sure you’re safe?” Youngjae asked him, splayed out underneath his covers, and Daehyun had sunk onto him from above, dragging the covers over them both when he was fully seated.

“I’ll text you,” Daehyun mumbled, feeling Youngjae stir inside of him. He raised his hips up and rolled them back down, feeling how slick Youngjae was with lube. “I don’t really want to talk about Himchan right now.”

“What if he’s not who he says he is?” Youngjae grunted, his hands reaching to grasp the meat of Daehyun’s ass. He spread Daehyun’s cheeks and massaged them, urging Daehyun to move.

“Then I’m fucked,” Daehyun gasped, breathlessly laughing after as Youngjae pulled harder, stretching him, his dick a smooth slide against the tight skin of his rim. “Get it?”

“Hilarious,” Youngjae said. He snapped up with his hips, and Daehyun yelped, bouncing. “I’m serious, though. How will I know you’re okay?”

“I’ll be - fine.” Daehyun groaned, riding Youngjae’s dick faster, grinding down onto it to watch Youngjae’s eyelids flutter closed as he arched his back.

He worked Youngjae's dick like that, panting when the hard length of it brushed against his prostate, steadily building rhythm until they were synced, and Daehyun could feel his orgasm building from his the way his toes began to tingle, his own dick jumping and bobbing in front of him.

“You don’t even care,” Youngjae grit through his teeth. He pushed down with his hands on Daehyun’s hips, stilling him, filling him up. Daehyun rocked back and forth to milk friction from the small movement, but it wasn’t enough. He whined. Youngjae raked his nails down Daehyun’s thigh, and Daehyun cried out. “You don’t even care that you could be walking yourself into trouble. You’ll just do anything for a little attention, won’t you?”

He let go of Daehyun’s hips and Daehyun worked himself up and down, frantically, his skin slapping against Youngjae’s, wet. “Yeah,” he breathed, shuddering when Youngjae shifted and tapped his thighs to make him spread his knees further, and then Youngjae held his hips and fucked into him, hips pounding, and Daehyun’s mouth fell open on a silent cry.

He wanted to writhe, to roll back down onto Youngjae, but Youngjae was holding him firm and tight, and he could do nothing more than plant his hands onto the mattress and lock his elbows to support himself.

Youngjae snapped his hips and his dick drove into Daehyun in long, quick strokes.

“You crave it so much, the attention,” Youngjae said, short on breath. “You’re a dirty whore for it. You’d do anything if they paid you, huh?”

“Youngjae,” Daehyun gasped, and suddenly he was on his back and Youngjae was thrusting into him, his knees by his ears and Youngjae’s face close to his. Youngjae’s breath was hot, and his dick was filling him up, and it was dirty, but he thought maybe Youngjae was right.

He was a whore for it. He loved being filled up and watched and he loved being fucked, and he was dirty.

“You’d do anything for a little bit of love,” Youngjae said, and shame flooded him. Shame was the same wretched heat as arousal, and Youngjae punched into him like he was a plaything and he came, spilling all over himself, getting come on Youngjae’s pillowcases.

Youngjae was grunting and clenching his fists next to Daehyun’s head, and Daehyun reached out to smooth down Youngjae’s hair.

“Sorry,” Youngjae said, a little after, his dick softening as he slipped out and tied off the condom. “I’m sorry. That was - I don’t know what that was, but you didn’t safeword out. But I should have asked if that would be okay.”

“It was okay,” Daehyun assured him, still breathless. “It was - a little mean,” he admitted.

Youngjae frowned. He climbed back onto the bed and laid down beside Daehyun, and they turned to look at each other, and Youngjae was still frowning. There was color on his cheeks and his hair was a mess. Daehyun reached out and smoothed his hair down again.

“I don’t know what came over me,” Youngjae mumbled.

“Youngjae,” Daehyun said. “Are you jealous?”

Youngjae stopped breathing. He turned onto his back, breaking eye contact. He was - he totally was. “You’re just,” Youngjae began, struggling. “You’re spending a lot of time with him and now you’re meeting him and, Daehyun, what if he’s not good to you?”

A warm bubble swelled up inside his chest and stayed there, and Daehyun wriggled over to Youngjae again, flopping an arm over his chest and curling up beside him, his nose in Youngjae’s collarbone. Youngjae curled, too, and he felt like maybe this was his favorite place in the world. “I promise I will call you as soon as anything happens that I don’t like and you can come rushing in like my shining prince and save me, okay?”

Youngjae grumbled, and Daehyun pecked him on the cheek. “Fine.”

A few minutes later Youngjae kicked him out of bed. They needed to get ready for class.

.

Himchan returns with a small, simple bag with ribbons for handles, its contents wrapped up in white tissue paper.

“What did oppa get?” Daehyun asks playfully, fluttering his eyelashes.

“Something oppa wants to see you wear, later,” Himchan says.

He won’t let him look into the bag, but Daehyun can guess what’s inside. The section they are in boasts mannequins wearing the laciest, sheerest of underthings, and garter belts and thigh-highs and thongs abound. He can only hope Himchan didn’t buy anything that will be uncomfortable.

.

**Author's Note:**

> [writing](andnowforyaya.tumblr.com)   
>  [twitter](https://twitter.com/andnowforyaya)


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